


needs must when the devil drives

by DenaCeleste



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Desperate Will, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Will, Possessive Hannibal, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenaCeleste/pseuds/DenaCeleste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has been ignoring his own desires for so long that when the heat comes upon him, he doesn't realize until it's too late. Now he needs help, and there's only one Alpha he trusts to take care of him and see him through to the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	needs must when the devil drives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlasherFiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/gifts).



> Dedicated to the wonderful SlasherFiend, who prompted this story. I hope you like it!
> 
>   **Unless otherwise stated, all works are unbetaed. Please no public concrit. Please keep comments positive. Any private concrit can be directed to my Tumblr ask box.**

Every appointment Will can smell the pheromones that cloud Hannibal’s office. Every appointment he ignores them, ignores his body’s attempts at reactions, ignores his own needs. He’s always been good at that. He hasn’t had a heat in three years. Due to stress, vicious nightmares, and the fact that he forgets to eat half the time, it stalled out.

 

Until this morning, when he wakes up with a whimper, shivering beneath his towels. This time his sheets aren’t just wet with sweat, but the slick leaking out of him at a steady rate. He claws at the bedding, eyes wide, and stares at the ceiling as his skin crawls.

 

“Nnn-fuck this shiiiit,” he hisses, and gropes for his phone. God-fucking-damn it, who is he gonna call? Jack? Fuck, no, not Jack, not if he was the last Alpha on the planet. He’d rather die of heat stroke.

 

Zeller’s an option, but no. No, he’s grating, and Will’s tolerance for bullshit, low at the best of times, doesn’t increase during his heats. Even the Omegan Nests, where unmated omegas could get treatment, were more like torture for someone like him.

 

Hannibal is the only option, really. He knows Will, knows how he can get. Doesn’t seem put off by his bluntness. And he’s more of a blank slate for Will’s empathy. He won’t turn into a pseudo-Alpha when the time comes, the way he used to when the idiots at the Omegan Nests leaked all over him.

 

He taps at the screen, annoyed when it won’t respond. He wipes his slick from his hands, from the device, and tries again. Shudders as another wave of desire, of aching emptiness, rolls through him.

 

 _“This is Doctor Lecter.”_ So professional, impersonal.

 

Will arches at the sound of his voice, throbs around the lack of anything filling him, knotting him, taking him. “I--I nee-Hannibal!”

 

 _“William? Are you alright? What is happening?”_ He sounds so concerned now, his voice taking on a lower register.

 

“Heat. I’m--it came--didn’t, I didn’t know,” he ends with a gasp, and his heightened senses pick up the click of Hannibal swallowing.

 

 _“What do you require from me?”_ Alphas, you could always count on them to provide. The give and take of Alpha and Omega is what all those books are about, really. Of course, Will usually gave more than they bargained for.

 

“Nnng--need, Hannibal, please,” he whines into the phone. “Need you, need help, please help me, please fuck me.”

 

Nothing from the other end for a small eternity. And then, _“You are at home?”_

 

“Yesss, home. My nest.” He writhes on the bed, rocks his hips where the towel folded beneath him, eager for any kind of stimulation.

 

 _“I will be there shortly. Get out your aid and fill yourself with it until I get there. Do nothing else. Do you understand?”_ Professional went out the window with that growl. He doesn’t sound so detached now, and Will feels a sense of vicious satisfaction.

 

“Yes, Alpha, I understand. Hurry.” With that breathless declaration, Will hangs up and paws at his bedside drawer for the flesh colored toy. It’s not the size of an Alpha cock, not quite, but it’s enough that he lets out a long moan, his skin suddenly not three sizes two small on his frame anymore.

 

He rocks onto it, fist clenched around the base to keep it from slipping away. Time passes in a haze. He’s not thirsty. He’s not hungry. He’s need, pure and simple and just as nature intended.

 

*****

 

 _Alpha_. The scent floods the house, to Will’s sensitive nose, and he lets out a long, drawn out moan. The sound of movement pauses, then resumes. Rustling and wooden sounds, but where _is he?_

 

“Hannibal! Please, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” he chants, turning himself over to spread and present, so empty and aching and _wet_.

 

The aid hangs from his entrance, by far not thick enough, nor warm enough, to sate his desire. Hannibal stalks into the room, the very air thick with tension that snaps into place as soon as he steps in.

 

He’s holding something, but it’s hard for Will to remember what things are when all that consumes him is the thought of being filled, of the overwhelming heat finally doused.

 

He does recognize clothing, and Hannibal wears far too much. He lets out a whine, bares his teeth at the man. “Naked. Touch me. Now.”

 

“Quiet,” Hannibal snarls, and Will obeys, though not without sending an insolent look his way. His patience won’t hold out forever.

 

Hannibal sets the bowl--that’s what it is, a bowl--down on the bedside table, and takes off his jacket first. Instead of his shirt following, he just rolls the sleeves up. Will wants to bite at his forearms, but that would be better if they were in front of his mouth while Hannibal filled him from behind.

 

“Why? Why why why?” Will rocks back, tilts to present more fully. Why wasn’t Hannibal _doing_ anything?

 

Hannibal shushes him with little tut-tut-tut noises, and Will shakes his head hard. No, no, he knows what’s supposed to happen now, and waiting isn’t it.

 

Hot, calloused fingers rub at his rim where it stretches around the aid. It flutters at the contact, real and human rather than the lacking facsimile of his toy. He shivers and his voice breaks on a moan. “Yes, please, Alpha. More please, Alpha.”

 

“Use my name, William.” He runs his finger up Will’s spine, drawing a line through the sweat that’s accumulated there. When he licks it clean, Will jerks.

 

“Hannibal. Hannibal. _Hannibal_.” Since he has nothing else, Will bites his own arm, breathy moans escaping around the flesh.

 

In front of his face appears Hannibal’s fingers, holding a juicy orange slice. “Open, William. Eat this. You’ll need the energy.”

 

Will decides that any hesitation on his part will only delay things further, and takes it into his mouth. Tart sweetness bursts over his tongue, and he moans. When more pieces appear, he opens for each one, licking and nipping at Hannibal’s fingertips as much as he can.

 

Throughout, Hannibal doesn’t stop touching him, and his heartbeat levels out, the heat not as pervasive as before.

 

“Good, good job. I have you.” Hannibal holds a water bottle up to his mouth, one he can suck from, and so he does, quenching a thirst that hadn’t been there before.  

 

“Please, before it gets-nnn,” Will gasps, arches into the finger that circles his hole, “--gets bad again. Please fuck me. Knot--fuck!--knot me. Whatever you like.” He glances up at Hannibal. “But no mating bite. No matter how I beg for it.”

 

Hannibal caresses his face. “I promise. No mating bite during your heat.” His voice firms up. “Now, present for me.”

 

Will rolls his eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

 

Hannibal walks out of view. A smack sounds in the room, and then he feels the burn against his inner thigh. “Spread more.” A hand strokes through his hair again, over his neck, stops between his shoulder blades, and _pushes_. “Down.”

 

Will keens softly, leaks more slick in spurts. His dick twitches, but hardly draws his attention when he’s so fucking empty. It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.

 

“I know, I know it hurts, you’ll be full soon, little one.” Hannibal tries to soothe him with those words, but Will wants him now, not soon, but right this very second.

 

Hannibal covers him, a blanket of furred skin over thick muscle, and a hard, Alpha-sized cock sliding across his hole. He’s ready, so ready, and he tilts his pelvis to encourage penetration.

 

“Still, little one, be very still,” Hannibal whispers next to his ear, and Will freezes in place.

 

Teeth set into his left shoulder--far enough away from his neck so as not to count as a mating bite--and blunt pressure slides into him. Will whines, high-pitched and needy, louder and louder until he’s so full of Hannibal’s dick he can’t see straight.

 

They stay that way for almost an entire minute before he breaks. “Please, Alpha, Hannibal, fuck me. I’m so ready, you have to, you have to,” he begs, unable to stop the little movements of his hips as he tries to fuck himself on Hannibal with the small amount of leverage he has.

 

He clenches the bedding in his fists, but Hannibal’s weight keeps him from moving the way he has to. The teeth that caress his shoulder dig in, and he trills at the pain, the possession.

 

As if waiting for that signal, Hannibal withdraws until only the tip of his cock rests inside of Will. His circles Will’s wrists, holds them to the bed, and then he slams into the Omega.

 

“Hannibal!” Will cries out, victorious, and clenches around his Alpha. His, the man is going to mark him and keep him and smell like him. The thrusts keep coming, and coming, each one as hard and forceful as the last. Hannibal grunts above him, hot breath puffing against Will’s skin.

 

Intense pleasure swarms over him, the relief of scratching a thousand itches and more, covered and protected by an Alpha, his Alpha, and if he moves his mouth just a little to the right, to bite where he’s supposed to on the back of Will’s neck--

 

“No, William, no mating bite. You made me promise.” Hannibal licks the back of his neck, where such a bite goes. Will doesn’t remember saying anything out loud, but the noises coming from his mouth are beyond his control, when all he can do is plead and writhe beneath the larger, stronger man.

 

“Please, please, I need, Han--Hannibal, I beg you, I’m asking. You give me what I--what I ask for, please mate me, bite me, do it, you can, it’s okay,” he babbles, tripping over his words, hopeful that any of them might be effective. Every instinct he has is telling him to claim the Alpha as the Alpha claims him.

 

The low, savage growl seems promising, and Will readies himself to receive the bite, to take on this man, this Alpha, as his own. Hannibal moves right, but too far, to his other shoulder, to bite down hard enough that Will screams and a coppery tang fills the air.

 

Between licks of the wound, Hannibal murmurs, “I will knot you, you desperate little thing. I’m going to knot you, and fill you, and when you come back to your right mind, we are having a talk.”

 

All Will can hear is ‘knot’ and ‘fill’ and ‘desperate’ which are all things he agrees with, so he tilts his head to the side, revealing more of the vulnerable column. “Please,” he whines, and Hannibal lays his forehead against Will’s cheek.

 

“You will be mine, William. You will take my knot,” he growls, and squeezes his hands around Will’s wrists hard enough to bruise, “take my cum,” he bites at Will’s jaw this time, “and breed me beautiful babies.”

 

Will’s eyes fly open and he chokes on a gasp as he comes. His entire body seizes, no longer pliant, trapped in an ecstasy so intense that he’s blind with it. Black, white, and grey dots dance in his vision as he clenches around Hannibal’s cock, as his own smaller cock jerks and spurts into the bedsheets, and then it happens.

 

The knot grows, stretches just past his rim, beyond pleasure into a painful pressure that hits him in all the right spots. He fights Hannibal’s hold on his wrists, not to escape, but to feel delightfully trapped, mounted and fucked and owned.

 

His heat elevates his temperature so much that every gush of cum from Hannibal is slightly cool to him, a little shocking to his system, and unbearably thrilling to his omegan nature.

 

Will lays there, cum sticky beneath him, slick coating his groin in messy streaks. Hannibal nuzzles the back of his neck again, and Will quivers. As their breathing evens out, Hannibal turns them onto their sides.

 

“How are you doing, dear Will?” He strokes Will’s flank, trailing his fingertips up and down.

 

“Weird time for--nng,” Will undulates against the knot, and another minute goes by before he continues, “for conversation, don’t you think?”

 

Hannibal pushes into him in small surges, palm pressing to Will’s belly to hold Will’s back flush to his chest. “I think now is the perfect time. You cannot escape me. Answer the question, if you please.” His breath ghosts across Will’s neck, makes him shiver.

 

“I’m okay. Not particularly happy to have a heat surprise me. Grateful that you came. And--” he cuts off, dips his chin down until Hannibal’s breathing flutters the curls at the base of his neck, “--thank you for keeping your promise.”

 

“I apologize for not inquiring more about your heats. But I am more than happy to have provided assistance.” The dichotomy of being stuck on Hannibal’s knot while he discusses in a low, almost professional tone, sends a shiver of lust through Will.

 

“I didn’t exactly bring it up much.” He pulses around the man, shudders in his arms. “I wasn’t expecting it to come back. Really, I blame you.”

 

“Me?” Hannibal sounds so amused. “What have I done, then?”

 

“Extended time in your presence. Trapped in a room. You smelling me all the time. And don’t think I didn’t notice those possessive touches.” Will groans when Hannibal slides his palm to lay over his heart.

 

“You are neither stupid, nor blind. But I would not have pressured you into a more personal relationship. I prefer more organic growth in my relationships.” Hannibal nibbles on his earlobe, dips his tongue into the shell of his ear.

 

Will snorts, but tilts his head to invite more affection. “You are a control freak. Even in surrender, you would dominate. You...cultivate reactions.” The hand over his heart moves up to circle his neck, squeezes. He whimpers and every nerve ending thrills at the vulnerable position he finds himself in.

 

“Be careful, dear Will.” Hannibal noses at his neck. “Do you say I forced this outcome?”

 

“No. I chose you.” Will knows he sounds begrudging, but he can’t let on. “I just wish I’d had more warning.”

 

“I cannot say that I’m displeased. I would like to court you properly, once your heat has ended.” Hannibal pets Will’s chest and belly in smooth strokes.

 

“I’ll give you my answer then,” Will responds with a purr. He tilts his head back, turns enough to beseech Hannibal for a kiss.

 

Hannibal obliges him, and if the sex dominated, his kiss seduces. Their lips slide together, catching and releasing with a rhythm that invites him to keep going, full of luscious wet sounds. Little begging trills escape Will, and Hannibal responds with deep, pleased growls. He melts against Hannibal, and notices that the knot that holds them together is beginning to shrink. They finally separate, and Will lets out a sigh.

 

The Alpha leaves him for a few minutes. Will listens as he putters around his nest--his house, damn it, he’s not having the man’s children yet. Hannibal returns with a warm, wet cloth, and Will hums with appreciation at the doctor’s thoughtfulness.

 

Once they are both clean, Hannibal tucks Will in. “I will go make us some food. You get some rest. This heat might last longer than the usual three to five days.”

 

Will shrugs. “Probably, yeah. Are you up for seeing me through it?”

 

“I would not have come if I weren’t prepared, dear Will. And as I said before, I had intended on courting you.” Hannibal presses a kiss to Will’s cheek. “Will your answer be yes? Purely out of curiosity, of course.”

 

Will contemplates the man standing over him, his eyes sparkling and his lips curved in a small smile. “Hmm. Probably. Don’t let it go to your head.”

 

“Oh, I would never dream of letting that happen.” Hannibal inclines his head, smirk just barely visible.

 

Will turns his back on the Alpha and nestles into the bed. “Go make me food.” He can’t stop the wide grin from taking over his face, and he hides it in a pillow.

 

Hannibal huffs out a laugh. “As you wish.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Come flail with me on [Tumblr](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com)!


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